Written Down

"Lucky brat," Becky smiled, indicating her short stature.

"Uh huh; ought see her now," Douglas said, putting the bag down next to his chair and picking up the corkscrew. "At least six feet, got to weigh two fifty, I bet. Most of the bulls think they ought be the ones riding her."

"Okay. Won't be able get that mental image out of my head," Becky said, checking her garlic bread.

"And because her name's Candy Cotton? Wears nothing but pink," Douglas said, pouring them each a glass of wine.

"And is 'bout two hundred and fifty pounds? That's a scary thought," Becky laughed, serving the food.

After the veal ravioli covered in homemade marinara sauce, Becky again served them vanilla ice cream with a brown sugar bourbon glaze. Douglas smiled as she served the coffee in her 'Isle Of View' mugs.

"The bag?" Becky asked as he scraped the last bite of dessert into his mouth.

"Hmm? Oh, the bag," Douglas agreed and pulled it around.

He pulled out a pair of pink suede chaps. Becky looked at the odd scraps in confusion. Douglas pulled her close and tied the chaps around her legs.

"Now? You can ride a bull," he laughed as she modeled the leather garment.

"Or my man," Becky said, walking in the chaps.

"And; they're a size seven and a half," Douglas said and pulled out a pair of bubble gum pink riding boots.

"Oh!" Becky said, looking at the flowers embossed on the leather shank of the boots.

"They don't fit? Can always stuff some paper in the toes," Douglas suggested.

They were a little loose, but Becky decided she liked them. After all, they were already paid for.

She walked quickly to her bedroom to see what she looked like in pink chaps and boots. A moment later, she strolled into the kitchen again, with only hat, chaps and pink boots on.

"Looks like you overdressed there, Bull," Becky drawled.

"You're right, ma'am," Douglas drawled in response.

It amused Douglas that Becky insisted on keeping boots, chaps, and hat on while they fucked. But, at age twenty four, Douglas had more than enough experience with women to know, if that's what Becky wanted to do, he had better go along with the plan. He hammered his cock into her tight pussy while she rode him hard.

Becky's hat finally fell off of her head as she kissed him. She let the hat lie on her bed as she lay down across him. When his limp cock slipped from her sloppy pussy, she gave him another kiss, then sat up. She picked the hat up and put it on again as she wiggled off of him.

"Stay the night?" Becky quietly asked as she loosened the chaps.

"Absolutely," Douglas agreed, kissing her softly.

Becky easily worked the boots from her feet and put them into her closet. The cowboy hat went onto a peg just inside of the door. For a long moment, Becky wondered what to do with the chaps, then finally just looped them over a plastic hanger.

After pulling on her sleep shirt, Becky peeled down the comforter. Becky and Douglas wiggled underneath the comforter and Becky snuggled up against him. Douglas wrapped his arms around her and they kissed.

"I uh, listen, we uh, I know we just started seeing each other," Douglas said, trying to see her face in the darkness.

"Uh huh," Becky agreed and lightly brushed is lips with hers.

"But, I, it too soon talk about being exclusive?" Douglas pressed.

Becky tensed. She didn't know if Douglas noticed her tensing; his hands continued to lightly rub along her back. She let out a little sigh.

"Listen," she said gently.

That gentle word stopped Douglas's light caresses. His hands rested on her back, very close to her bubble butt. He did not respond when Becky again touched his lips with hers.

"I promise, as long as we together? I will not see any other men," Becky said softly.

"Oh. Well, then, that's exclusive," Douglas said, reaching down and squeezing her buttocks through her sleep shirt.

"No, Douglas, you didn't hear me," Becky said quietly.

"Yeah, you said as long as we're together..." Douglas said.

"I said I won't see any other men," Becky finished. "Men. Douglas, I'm bi. I like women. Hell, I love women. Love women almost as much as I love men."

"Can I watch?" Douglas chuckled after a long moment of silence.

"Watch? You just want watch? You don't want join in?" Becky asked, small hand gripping his renewed erection.

"You don't want fuck my face while my girlfriend licks my pussy?" Becky asked, purposefully using profane language while stroking his cock. "You don't want jam your dick up my ass while I use my vibrator on my girlfriend?"

"Too soon say I love you?" Douglas groaned as Becky sank her mouth down over his cock.

"I love you too; you my man," Becky said after she pulled her mouth off of his cock with a loud 'pop.'

It did not take long; the thought of the fresh faced, innocent looking Becky with another woman had the sperm bubbling up in Douglas's cock. With a strangled groan, he emptied his balls into her throat.

"Love you," Douglas again murmured.

"You my man," Becky affirmed, again putting her head on his chest.

Cal's Western Wear closed on a Sunday. The few remaining clothes and boots had already been sold to another clothing store in Myndee, Arkansas. Bargain Bin, a discount store in Bender, Louisiana had bought most of the display racks. Cowboy's BBQ catered the event for the few patrons and former employees that came for the occasion.

Becky greeted Callie, was surprised when the leathery looking older woman hugged her tightly. She smiled as Douglas dragged her around, introducing her to everyone as his girlfriend. She did not miss the murderous glares she received from two former employees, both female.

"And, here you go, Douglas; promised you a bonus you stayed on 'til the end," a now very drunk Callie slurred.

"Yes ma'am," Douglas smiled tightly as he wiped a tear away. "Thank you, Miss Cally."

Callie's bonus was ten crisp one hundred dollar bills in an envelope. Douglas told Becky he would use that money to pay toward his student loan for the Vo-Tech.

"That's a good idea," Becky agreed as they climbed into his 2002 Dodge Dakota.

"Well, guess what?" Douglas said after a few moments of driving.

"I give up. What?" Becky asked.

"Now I don't have a job anymore," Douglas said.

"For now," Becky encouraged. "Soon as you graduate..."

"No, Becky, I don't have a job. Means all this, 'oh I miss you, oh I can't wait see you; when's your next day off?' stuff? That's all gone," Douglas explained.

"Oh yeah!" Becky laughed happily.

"So. I miss you. Oh. I can't wait see you again. Guess what? I'm off tonight," Douglas said.

"And I got that gas grill I been dying try out," Becky agreed.

When they pulled up, Monty, Aunt Margaret and Todd were getting out of Aunt Margaret's car. Becky nodded in satisfaction; Monty, or Aunt Margaret had made Todd get a decent haircut. Aunt Margaret and Monty waved and Becky and Douglas returned their friendly wave. Todd shot Douglas a white-hot glare, then turned his back on the couple.

Becky, through Layla's instructions, managed to do a decent job on the steaks, zucchini and yellow squash skewers and ears of corn. Afterward, though, Becky declared that the gas grill would be Douglas's domain. He could stand outside swatting at mosquitos and sweating, waiting for their food to cook.

'Isle Of View' Becky typed out and set the message to Layla.

'Isle Of View 2' Layla responded.

"Um. Okay, I do this grilling thing, I get instructions from the cooking queen?" Douglas asked, putting his emptied plate into the dishwasher.

When he got no response, Douglas turned to see that Becky was not in the kitchen. He smiled as he saw that she had set out the ingredients for making warm blackberry cobbler drinks. He checked that the reservoir of the keurig was filled with water and began the process.

"Oh, good, you got the hint," Becky said, pink boots making a clomping sound as she ambled into the kitchen.

Again, she was wearing her pink suede chaps and pink boots and cream colored cowboy hat. Because the boots were just a little too big, Becky made a clomping sound as she walked. That clomping noise did not detract from the naughty, sexy image that Becky projected.

After some very energetic sex, Becky brought up the idea of Douglas moving in. Douglas agreed readily; he'd had two months left on his lease and had been debating on whether or not to renew the lease.

Triangle Carter, Inc. hired Douglas the moment he had his certification in hand. They were an oil-field company that maintained Internet, computer hardware and software and electrical systems. Their largest consumer base was off-shore rigs. A typical shift for a TC employee was fourteen on, seven off.

So for the last two nights he had before leaving for his first assignment, Becky made Douglas fuck her, made him go bowling as often as he could get it up. Douglas didn't object; bowling in bed was his all-time favorite sport.

"That's got hold me for two weeks," Becky explained as she tried to get another erection out of his wilted cock.

Four days before the end of Douglas's first shift, Becky was sitting in her office, completing her Western Civilization 315 assignment when the sound of a car door made her look up. She peered out of the window and saw a police cruiser sitting in her driveway. She also saw a beautiful blonde woman in a Baylor Lake Police Department uniform approaching the front door. Becky felt that familiar, odd, slightly off-center feeling in her belly.

The previous year, 2019, the citizens of Baylor Lake and Jazz Beach, Louisiana had voted to incorporate, become a town. Being a town, rather than an unincorporated part of St. Elizabeth Parish meant that Baylor Lake and Jazz Beach would need a police force, and a post office.

(It also meant their property taxes would double over the next five years; the bureaucrats never tell you that part. It meant that there would be politicians, all with their right hands out while their left hands were rooting around in the cookie jar. But the bureaucrats never tell you that part.)

Becky was not living in her home when the vote was cast; she would have voted 'no' if she had been. She understood enough of business and finances to know that the money for a police force, a post office would not come from leprechauns and unicorns; it would come from her. St. Elizabeth Parish would not cut taxes from the Bender, DeGarde, Flowers and Kimble citizens, but they would cut services to Baylor Lake and Jazz Beach. Someone had to make up for the shortfall to Baylor Lake and Jazz Beach, now just called Baylor Lake, and that someone would be her.

But in March of 2020, Becky did vote for the politicians that ran for the newly created township of Baylor Lake, Louisiana. Lieutenant Ritchie Himmer had over twenty five years of experience on active duty in St. Elizabeth Parish. His opponent had thirteen years of experience driving a desk around in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Becky pulled the lever for Ritchie Himmer for Captain of the Baylor Lake Police Department.

Becky quickly pulled the unlined riding coat on over her nude body as she walked to her front door. She wondered what the police might want with her, but was not afraid.

"Afternoon, ma'am," Officer Rochelle Esposito said, blue eyes looking at the short woman in cowboy hat and long coat.

Rochelle's blue eyes also peered into the home as much as she could through the small chink that Becky allowed. It was a warm September day; the woman's coat was a little odd, as was the cowboy hat on the woman's head, the bubble gum pink boots on the woman's feet.

"Yes, Officer?" Becky asked politely.

Rochelle swept her hand back, brushing her shoulder length blonde hair back. Her hair used to reach down to just above her tight heart shaped buttocks. At the Academy, a female trainer pointed out that long hair gave an opponent something to grab onto. Long hair could be a hindrance, especially on a windy day; it could get in her eyes. Her habit of brushing her hair back was a decade's long habit that Rochelle had not been able to break just yet.

"Ma'am, looking for a Jonathon David Savoie; he here?" Rochelle said, voice authoritative.

"John... Mean, guy lived here before?" Becky asked, frowning.

"So you're saying Jonathon Savoie's not here?" Rochelle snapped, again peering past Becky into the small slice of interior that she could see.

"No, he's not. Thought y'all had him?" Becky asked. "I mean, didn't y'all arrest him, what, July?"

Becky could feel her pussy getting wet as she looked at the five foot, four inch beauty. Becky read the officer's name badge that perched just over the officer's 34D breast, 'Esposito.'

Becky brought her bare thighs together. The woman was gorgeous. Becky loved the dark blue uniform, loved how the blouse stretched taut across the officer's breasts, loved how it tapered into her narrow waist. The nine millimeter handgun emphasized the woman's sweetly rounded hips.

Officer Esposito's face was a beautiful face, framed by light blonde hair cut in such a cute style. The dark blue hat on the officer's head highlighted the light blonde hair and also emphasized the woman's light blue eyes.

Her nose was slim; Becky hated her own button nose; her glasses kept sliding down. The officer's complexion was lightly tanned, her cheekbones were high, aristocratic. Her lips were full, pouting, kissable and her chin was rounded.

"July..." Rochelle murmured, pulling her tablet off of her belt.

Rochelle pursed her lips and her blue eyes flashed with anger. The tablet showed that one Jonathon David Savoie was indeed in the custody of the Bender Police Department and had been since July eighteenth.

And Rochelle was willing to bet that Officer Jack Powell had known that when he'd given her the electronic summons. The former classmate from Baylor Lake High School seemed incapable of moving past the hijinks and hierarchies of high school cliques.

"Thank you, ma'am," Rochelle snapped and turned to walk away.

"Wait," Becky called out, unwilling to let the beautiful woman leave.

Becky didn't know what she was doing; she had no plan in mind. She had never approached another woman before. But the odd feeling, that slightly uncomfortable, off-kilter feeling wouldn't leave her body.

Monty and Becky that had been a mutual seduction. They'd both been attracted to one another. They had both been curious, naïve but curious.

"You just going take my word for it?" Becky asked. "You not going demand to look around?"

Again Rochelle brushed her hair back. She'd been a cheerleader in high school; she'd been approached before, by both men and women. She'd even had a few lesbian dalliances, while in high school, with other cheerleaders.

None of those approaches had been as clumsy, as blatant as this, though. Rochelle did feel a slight shiver of excitement ripple through her as she looked at the large brown eyes behind the slightly smudged eyeglasses.

"Ma'am, Mr. Savoie is in custody at the Bender lock up," Rochelle said.

"Sure it's the right one?" Becky asked. "Might be another Jonathon Savoie. You might want come in, take a look around just to make sure."

"I haven't called it in yet," Rochelle said, more to herself than to Becky, then smiled. "Know what? You're right. I better come in and have a look-see."

The living room was beautiful, but comfortable. There was a beige loveseat with deep blue throw pillows against the large picture window. To the right of the loveseat was a large deep blue couch with beige throw pillows and deep blue throw pillows. Next to the couch was a beige recliner, an exact match to the beige loveseat.

The walls were a pale blue, the carpet was a sandy beige. Rochelle's eyes also saw the wall-mounted 52inch LCD television; her father, Francis Esposito would have drooled over that television.

"What's in there?" Rochelle asked, pointing to a door to the right of the television.

"My office. It's a third bedroom but I mainly use it for school," Becky admitted.

Rochelle peered in through the open door. She saw a very nice desk; Becky had bought it at a garage sale, sanded it, stripped off sixty three years of dirt, grime, and a very amateurish paint job, then stained the wood a honey blonde. Rochelle also saw an overstuffed leather office chair; she smiled because the chair was raised to maximum height. There was a comfortable looking day bed, a blue patchwork quilt casually draped over the polished brass arm of the furniture.

"Officer Esposito, would you like a cup of coffee?" Becky asked, walking toward the kitchen.

"Yes, yes ma'am, I think I would," Rochelle agreed, following the short woman through the living room.

Rochelle admired the sleek, clean lines of the kitchen, the counters and appliances were slightly lower than the average counter or appliances. There was a rolling ladder that mounted to a track along the top of the upper cabinets. The colors were soft, muted, warm and inviting.

"What do you take in your coffee, Officer?" Becky asked.

"Just a lot of cream," Rochelle said, sitting in a padded chair. "And it's Rochelle."

"Hi Rochelle, I'm Becky Meadows," Becky said, putting a K-Cup into the coffee maker. "All I've got is Community dark roast; that okay? Oh. Or I got decaf."

"Dark roast is perfect," Rochelle agreed. "Uh, ma'am, Becky, why are you wearing that coat?"

"I was sitting at my computer when you pulled up," Becky said. "So threw this on."

"You can take it off; you're making me sweat just looking at it," Rochelle smiled as she made notes on her tablet.

She sent the information; Jonathon David Savoie was already in custody, a guest of the Bender Lockup. Rochelle made sure to CC Captain Ritchie Himmer on the file.

She wasn't sure if Captain Ritchie Himmer believed in the 'good old boy' way of doing things; Rochelle didn't know if Captain Himmer was one of those that believed that women should stay at home having babies and leave the hard work up to men. So far, the man had been nothing but professional in his duties as the captain of the small police force.

But Rochelle did want this mission, the unnecessary time, the waste of manpower hours noted. All Jack would have had to do is type in Jonathon David Savoie's name and he would have found the man. Instead, Jack had sent Rochelle out here for nothing.

"I can't; I, when I'm at my computer, when it's just me, I uh, I'm naked," Becky admitted, handing Rochelle a mug of coffee.

"Oh. I uh, then uh..." Rochelle stammered, looking at the cute woman.

"Be right back," Becky smiled a sassy little smile at her guest's.

Becky strode out of the kitchen. Rochelle sipped the hot coffee, looking over her schedule. After serving the summons, she was supposed to go on routine patrol, concentrating on the area near the St. Elizabeth's Public Library. They'd been getting complaints; suspicious looking vehicles in and around the playground behind the library.

"This better?" Becky asked, returning to the kitchen.

Rochelle's eyes flickered up. Becky had put on a pair of Daisy Duke Style shorts with leather patches and a too short, too tight pink tee shirt. Becky still wore the bubble gum pink cowboy boots on her feet. Rochelle could see that Becky Meadows had an outie belly button, and could see that Becky wore no bra underneath the tee shirt; the light shadow of her areolae were plainly visible through the shirt's thin material.

The short legs were well-formed, pale. Her slender belly was also pale as it peeked out of her short tee shirt. Becky's breasts were very large, especially on such a short woman. The breasts were natural; store bought breasts would not have that natural sag to them. Rochelle could also see a hot blush on the woman's pretty face.

"I uh, yeah, I, that's an uh, that's a cute outfit," Rochelle stammered. "Especially with them boots."